


The Dead Star

by vogue91



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Cheating, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Return of the King, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13816107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “And then you think about her as well.” she said, her voice barely audible, looking once again at the necklace.





	The Dead Star

“You can’t leave, my lord.” Éowyn was close to tears.

The ranger stared at her, but it was like his eyes went through her. His mind was too tired to take on also the guilt he felt toward the woman.

“I can’t stay either. It’s a war that we can’t win, but I have the duty of doing anything possible to avoid the massacre.” he told her. His voice sounded harsh, and he regretted it right away. Éowyn wasn’t responsible for his mood, and it wasn’t fair of him to pour on her his anguish.

He saw her lowering her eyes and nodding slightly. He sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Éowyn...” he whispered. “I don’t want to leave, alone and leaving you alone. But I have to, it’s my destiny.”

“Your destiny, my lord Aragorn, it to be _king_ , not to die for a lost cause.” she said, even closer to tears.

The man turned away, trying to conceal his face from her.

The truth was that he wasn’t glad at all to leave alone, but he couldn’t see any possible alternative.

Of too many deaths the Middle Earth had already been stained, and he didn’t want for it to see any more of it. Nor he could have asked Éowyn or anyone else to follow him. Cowardice was the last of the faults he wanted to ascribe to his name, to his ancestry, already marked by Isildur’s avidity.

When he felt ready to face the woman’s stare he turned back. Her eyes were pieces of ice, ready to sound him out to his soul.

He saw her staring intensely at the Evenstar around his neck and then lowering humbly her eyes.

“I think it’s time for me to go, now.” the ranger said. He didn’t like either the load of means the jewel brought with it, not after Elrond’s visit at least.

He tried to keep his thoughts away from Arwen, but as much as he tried it was an impossible task.

“Not tonight. Wait for the morning, I beg of you.” Éowyn whispered, pleading. Aragorn sighed. He didn’t really know what to do.

On one hand, he desired to leave now, to cross the path of the dead under the sunlight. But on the other...

Since the first time he had laid eyes on her, at Edoras, there had been something in that woman that had stricken a nerve in him. Something in her eyes, warlike and at the same time delicate. Something that right now was preventing him from moving.

“Fine, Éowyn. Just tonight.” he murmured, diverting his eyes from hers, before falling into thoughts that he knew were forbidden. The smile lightening up her face, was enough. It served the purpose of undoing any remaining qualm.

They sat next to the fire. It was late, and the camp of Dunharrow was almost deserted. A few shadows appeared from the tents where the lights were still on.

Aragorn lit up his pipe and kept quiet, relishing that calm that, he was aware of it, wasn’t going to last.

Éowyn was the one to break that sort of spell.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, staring at the lost look on the ranger’s face. He shrugged.

“There’s not much to think about, in times like these. I was just wondering about the best path to follow. What it’s necessary for me to do.” he explained.

“And then you think about her as well.” she said, her voice barely audible, looking once again at the necklace.

Aragorn was not sure what was best to say. And after all, the girl didn’t expect an answer at all.

She knew he was thinking about Arwen. And he couldn’t even begin to imagine how it grieved her.

“Éowyn, you are a wonderful woman, and I’m sure you deserve...” she didn’t let him finish. She stood up, towering over him, staring at him with heavy eyes.

“Do not tell me I deserve someone better than you. What I deserve, is the truth. I wish you had the courage to tell me that I am not worthy of you, that I could never compete with her.” she hissed. Right after, her face became red. She groaned.

“Éowyn I swear to you, I’m sorry for all of this. I cannot ignore what binds me to Arwen.” he stood up himself, taking delicately her arm. “But at the same time, I cannot ignore you either. You are... alive. You’re beautiful, you’re a woman worthy of Rohan.” he sighed. “And that is why I ask you to believe me when I say that you could do so much better than me. I am but a shadow, Éowyn.” he smiled tentatively at her.

“You are no shadow. You’re just convinced to be, but I can understand. No one better than a woman can comprehend that feeling of inadequacy, that will to do lacking any chance. You’re not telling me anything of which I am not an expert already.” she said, getting closer. “But I am not looking for the bravest man in the whole Middle Earth. On the contrary, I am not looking for anybody. I only know what is right in front of me.” the girl’s voice was trembling, and Aragorn was starting to feel something coming from deep inside of him, something that he thought was dying alongside Arwen. He knew he couldn’t love Éowyn. Yet that feeling was there, alive and touchable.

Taken by a rush of pure madness he took her face in his hand. He hesitated, and she had plenty of time to realize what was going to happen. Yet she didn’t react. Only, she let him kiss her, she let her face being brushed by those hands, delicate and determined.

It was like walking on a reality that was nothing like the one she had known. She didn’t know all too well how it had happened, but she found herself standing, pushed toward the entrance of a tent. She didn’t linger too much on thoughts. She just followed the ranger’s movements, indulging them, becoming one with his skin, his hands, his mouth.

When she was laid down, the man towering over her, she was allowed to breath. Aragorn had stopped. He panted, there, guilt in his eyes.

“I... I am sorry, Éowyn.” he murmured. The girl looked mortally serious; she sat down, to be at the same height as the ranger.

“And what are you sorry for, precisely?” she asked, feeling herself dangerously close to tears.

“I can’t understand what’s happening to me. I feel like the world is closing its walls on me, and that somehow you help me to keep standing.” Éowyn looked offended, but she didn’t speak. He noticed it. “I’m begging you, don’t hate me. I need you, don’t turn your back on me. Hide me from the eyes of the others, keep me. I need for you to stop me from wavering, Éowyn. I feel only you can.” she stood up, blushing.

“Only I can, for I am the only one for whom you will not feel any regret. The only one that will not give you any remorse when you will leave me behind.” the ranger tried to protest, but she didn’t let him talk. “My lord Aragorn, I know all too well that a day will come when you won’t need me anymore the way you say you do now.” she lowered her eyes, then looked at the entrance of the tent, fearing to see the feeble lights of dawn coming in from it, and they weren’t. “I’m only asking you to stay by my side, until the Sun won’t rise.” she murmured, finally letting tears draw wet paths over her face, paler than ever.

Aragorn couldn’t fight the instinct to hug her. He was trying so hard to think about Arwen, but her features were blurred, and they got confused with the face of the girl in front of him, with that warrior soul with too many unexpressed desires.

“I’ve promised I’ll stay until tomorrow. And I shall.” he whispered to her ear, low, as not to break that magic they had created in that little corner of the world.

They kept hugging for a long time, without saying a word. The only thing they needed was to feel the presence of each other, for too different reasons.

The Sun followed his usual path, and no prayer was strong enough to make it stay out of the sky longer. And Aragorn had to leave, and Éowyn was dying of the uncertainty of his return.

She felt his taste burning violently on her lips. And she knew that was never going to die.

 

~

 

The war was over, and they had won. Aragorn was ready to be crowned, even though he was still unsure of everything that was going on around him.

Arwen had come, and having seen her alive, well, happy had given him emotions far stronger than he thought he could feel.

He turned, for just a moment. Not so far from him, Éowyn held tight Faramir’s hand. He saw on her face the signs of that joy he hadn’t been able to give her.

He smiled at her, openly.

Arwen was the woman he was destined to love. And yet he knew that a part of his heart was marked with the name of the young girl from Rohan.

He didn’t need her anymore, nor she did him. But between them there was a sea of silent promises, perhaps still to be kept.

They were guardians to each other’s secrets. And that would have bound them for all eternity. 


End file.
